with bones or without?

This morning I awoke from a dream in which I was making a soup.

The soup is a yellow broth, like Matzo ball soup, with carrots and noodles. I am in my grandmother’s kitchen, the sunlight coming through the window passes through the broth in the clear bowl. I have a bag of silver minnows. I take two live fish and place them in the soup. They are darting about in my soup, their eyes watching me.

I leave them to cool and go for a walk. It’s not autumn yet, but I can smell cold in the air. Last year’s leaves crunch beneath my feet. I want apples. I imagine apples straight off the tree, the crunch of their crisp sweetness, their juice, some of it dripping down my chin.

I imagine the little fish in my soup squirming in my mouth, the crunch of their bones, their bodies sliding down my throat. I run back to the house. I look in my soup. One of the fish is gone. I fish the remaining one out – and drop it in a bowl of water. It’s little mouth is gasping. I saved it! – I think. No, I killed it – I think – it is alive but now partially cooked.

I wake up. I think about sushi. I think of a post from a couple of weeks ago by Amanda Palmer in which she writes about a time she stepped on a dying bird to put it out of its misery. It is the back story of her song The Killing Type. I guess that post haunted me. You can check her post here.

I’ve been going about my day: unpacking, photographing new jewelry by Matagi, saying good-bye to Matagi as he goes to visit clients in Flagstaff (just as I’ve arrived from Flagstaff – I miss my man!!), and simultaneously snuggling and fending off my cat (he misses me and gets to be quiet a molester if I don’t watch it) while I work. When I open my computer (which is now overheating – I must take it to be fixed or replaced before it actually burns out) – and there is another post from Amanda Palmer which includes the video of the song behind the story I was thinking about when I woke up.

Here’s the video – there is a viewer discretion:

Something reminds me of Amanda Palmer and then, I get a video by Amanda Palmer. I like when these things happen.

Image of Amanda Palmer from Buzzine.

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I'm a rock-n-roller poet who left the Big Apple for the Big Sky Desert where I've been letting it be and grooving with universal love, singing to the gods, dancing with the muses and bicycling with dreamtime messengers. I like altering my reality through imagination, movement, breath, and makin' stuff.

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